“And that’s exactly why poor Mike is frazzled. I hope not knowing is keeping those bastards up at night,” Jackie growled.
“Mike called her, so he’s obviously worried,” Steve said to her.
“Yes, and that’s why she might be able to help.”
Steve gazed at Casey. “We still don’t have enough evidence to bring Mike in. We can’t get anyone inside the company, because Jerry’s tightened security. But you can get to Mike. You can tell him you have information about Jackie. Meet with him. We’ll wire you. Get him to say something incriminating.”
How was she supposed to do that? “Uh, this is a guy who put someone he knows into a coma. What’s he going to do if someone he doesn’t know pisses him off?”
“Tell him you want to go in with him,” Steve suggested. “Tell him you’ll give him information about Jackie if you get a piece of the pie. Make him see you as being on his side, rather than as a threat.”
“I want to go home.” Jackie crossed her arms across her chest. “I want to see my cats—and Ellen. I want to see Sissy, before she makes an ass of herself with Kenny.”
Casey bit her tongue. The boat had already sailed on that one.
“I want to go grocery shopping, for god’s sake,” Jackie continued. “Most of all, I want to stop their plan before the food ends up on the shelves.”
“Can’t you analyze the food and get them that way?” Casey said to Steve.
“They won’t be poisoning the cats. There’s no law against cat food that doesn’t taste good, any more than there’s a law against people food that tastes bad.”
If there was, Casey could think of a few cooks who’d be on the most wanted list. Her sister’s meatloaf would earn her life behind bars.
“You can sue a restaurant for making you sick. You can’t sue it if the food isn’t good.” Jackie stepped toward Casey. “Do you have a cat?”
“Yeah. Her name’s Midnight. She’s black.”
Jackie’s face scrunched up. “Midnight. That’s, uh, cute. What do you feed her?”
“She occasionally gets food from your company,” Casey said truthfully.
“Then you’ll appreciate the gravity of the situation. Imagine how traumatized Midnight would be, and you, if you fed her food that tasted horrible. Just horrible. She might never touch canned food again. So if you won’t snare Mike for me, do it for Midnight, and for all the other Midnights out there. Do it for them.”
Should she tell them that she’d do it because she wanted to close her case and shout from the rooftops that she, Casey Cook, was a kick-ass private investigator? Nah, let them believe she was noble. Part of her didn’t want cats to consume icky food. But a bigger part of her wanted this case over with. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Yes!” Jackie grinned. “I knew you would.”
Steve pointed toward the steps. “Let’s go upstairs and discuss the plan. My feet are killing me.”
“I’ll meet you up there,” Casey said. “I need to make a quick call first. If I don’t, the police will get involved.”
Steve raised his brows. “So there was a Plan B. Why don’t you put in an application with us? We can always use good investigators.”
“I’ll think about it,” Casey said, wondering if she should. A steady job versus having to scrounge up clients…yeah, she’d think about it.
“We’ll be in the living room.”
Casey watched Steve and Jackie climb the stairs, then she pulled out her phone and called Emily. “I’m okay,” she said after they’d exchanged greetings. “Met up with the contact, and the information was invaluable.”
“So you didn’t run into any problems?”
Casey coughed. “Nope.”
Emily blew out a sigh. “Well, that’s a relief. I imagined you being bundled into a van and driven off to god knows where.”
“Really?” Casey snorted. “Why would you imagine that?” The warm, fuzzy realization that Emily had worried about her made her want to pirouette. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow night. Everything.” Forget the coy “it’s confidential” line. She suddenly wanted to confide in Emily, to trust her. If they were going to see each other, refusing to discuss her cases in detail would be a drag.
“I’m looking forward to tomorrow night,” Emily said huskily.
“Me too.” She swallowed. “I’m still with the contact, so I should go.”
“Thanks for saving me a call to the cops.”
“Anytime.” Grinning from ear to ear, Casey hung up and shoved her phone into her pocket.
*****
Wishing she didn’t have an audience, Casey dialed Mike’s number and hoped he wouldn’t answer. She’d prefer to leave a message and talk to him later, when Jackie and Steve weren’t staring at her.
A click. “Hello.”
Damn. “Mike?”
“Yep.”
“This is Casey Cook. I’m the investigator looking into Jackie Rose’s disappearance.”
His voice climbed an octave. “Right. Hi Casey.”
“You said to call you if I found anything out.”
“You found something?”
“I did better than that. I found her.” Dead air. She knew he was gaping.
“I’m sorry, did you say you found her?” Mike sputtered. “You found Jackie?”
“I know where she is, yeah.” His stunned silence was oddly satisfying. “But I don’t want to talk about it on the phone. We should meet.”
“Uh, sure. Let’s get together tonight.”
Oops, too eager, Mike. “I can’t make it tonight. The earliest I can meet you is Thursday night,” she said, ignoring Steve’s frantic hand waving and Jackie’s frown. Casey wanted time to review her notes, and she wanted her evening with Emily before meeting Mike. After discussing the operation, as Steve called it, with him and Jackie, she was confident that she wouldn’t be in danger, but a couple of days waiting wouldn’t hurt; in fact, Mike stewing for a while could lead to him being careless when they met.
“You sure? You don’t even have five minutes to spare?”
“I have more to tell you than just Jackie’s location. I’ve discovered quite a lot.”
“I see.”
She could hear his wheels turning. Good, adding a dash of panic and apprehension to his brewing impatience would rattle him even more. “Why don’t we meet at The Cog, that family restaurant near your work?” she said, offering Jackie’s suggestion. They needed a quiet location for the wire, which eliminated coffee shops and food courts. “Say, six o’clock?”
“On Thursday? Sure. I’ll make a reservation.”
“That would be great. See you then.”
“Yeah.” Silence. He didn’t seem to want to hang up.
“Bye.” Casey disconnected.
“Why can’t you meet him tomorrow?” Jackie asked.
“Let him stew. It’ll give Steve more time to prepare.”
“He doesn’t need—”
“It’s only two days, Jackie,” Steve said. “This morning you were potentially looking at weeks, even months.”
“True,” she said, her mouth pinched.
Steve shifted his attention to Casey. “We’ll meet a couple of hours beforehand, to go over the plan and get you wired up. What’s your cell number?” As Casey recited it, he tapped it into his phone. “I’ll call you Thursday morning.”
“Can I leave now? Where are we? My bike is back at the mall.”
“I’ll call you a cab,” Steve muttered. While they waited for it, he handed Casey forty dollars. “That should cover the fare.”
She pocketed the bills, figuring that forty dollars wouldn’t be enough to get from the burbs to downtown. The van must have driven around in circles. Her suspicion was confirmed when the cab driver pulled away from the curb and she asked him, “What street are we on?” She’d already memorized the house number. “My friend drove me here and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Fields Avenue,” the driver said, eyeing her in the r
earview mirror.
Yep, only about ten minutes from the mall, even closer than she’d expected. The forty dollars was generous, but hell, she’d earned it.
Chapter Twelve
Casey stepped to her right to allow a man walking his two immaculately groomed poodles to pass by on the sidewalk. She hadn’t protested when Emily had suggested they go for a walk after dinner, and couldn’t remember the last time she’d strolled along the gay village’s main strip. Over a steak dinner, she’d told Emily all about the Rose case. She’d glossed over the bumbling into an ambush part, simply saying that the contact had taken her to Jackie’s location—not a lie. The hood, the handcuffs, the woman who’d fooled her, the burly men…mere details. Emily had listened calmly until she heard about the plan to meet with Mike, at which point her eyes had widened, her mouth had opened, and she’d put down her fork. But then she’d reached for her napkin, dabbed at her lips, and with a determined look, picked up her fork again and stuffed her mouth with mashed potato.
When Casey had ended her story, Emily had praised her. She’d seemed impressed. Part of Casey had puffed out with pride; the other part wondered if Emily’s reaction was feigned. After all, they were on a date—Casey thought—and still in the best behaviour phase. Her skeptical side hadn’t dampened the glow Emily’s words evoked, though, and Casey couldn’t believe how relaxed she felt with her. She wasn’t mulling over every word that came out of her mouth, wasn’t trying to sound like an intellectual, wasn’t overly worried about dropping a forkful of food on her shirt. She wouldn’t be thrilled if that happened, but she’d laugh it off, rather than feel two feet tall because she’d ruined the date and her life was over.
Could she be herself because she wasn’t gaga over Emily, or because they were soul mates? She didn’t feel that she’d known Emily all her life or anything like that, but being with Emily was the most natural thing in the world, much more enjoyable than her other early dates, when she was such a bag of nerves that she could hardly remember what had happened—or cringed, if she could.
Her hand bumped into Emily’s; without thinking, she grasped Emily’s fingers and curled hers around them. When Emily didn’t pull her hand away, Casey gave her a sidelong glance. Emily smiled shyly. Warmth surged through Casey; she squeezed Emily’s hand and realized that she was gaga over Emily, but this was a different type of gaga, grounded by interest based on reality, and not pure lust.
Emily stopped and peered into a store window. “I haven’t been in here for a while. I should make a point of dropping by.”
Not wanting to let go of Emily’s hand, Casey craned her neck to glimpse the store’s sign. Used books. “You’re into books?”
“Yes, but that’s not why I come here. They have a comics section in the back.”
“You read comics?”
“I collect them.”
“Seriously?” Emily’s cool factor shot way up. “Which ones?”
“Anything with Wonder Woman in it. I only started seriously collecting a few years ago,” Emily said as they continued walking. “I don’t have many old ones. They’re expensive. Hundreds, even thousands of dollars.”
“Really?”
Emily nodded. “I see the ones I buy now as an investment.”
“I bet the bank didn’t recommend that,” Casey said, recalling the time she’d visited a bank to see if she could put her spare $25.00 a month to work for her. The moment the financial advisor had mentioned starting an RRSP for retirement, she’d tuned out. Retirement? Give her a freaking break. Now, if the woman had brought up comics… “I like your style of investing.”
“Some people think it’s childish.”
“Like who?”
Emily took her time answering. “My last…I don’t know what to call her. Girlfriend, I suppose.”
“Oh,” Casey said casually.
“She was quite a bit older than me, so maybe she saw a lot of what I did as childish.” Emily’s hand tightened around Casey’s. “She was one of my professors.”
A piece clicked into place. “Did you live together, and that’s why you moved closer to the university?”
“No to the first part, yes to the second.”
Sensing that Emily would say more, Casey waited.
“I was stupid, and naïve, and gullible, and head over heels.” Emily let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m being an ass. I’m sure you want to hear all about my last relationship.” She tried to pull her fingers from Casey’s, but Casey wouldn’t let her escape.
“If you want to talk about it, talk about it,” Casey said, relaxing her fingers because Emily had stopped trying to get away. “It sounds like you got hurt. What happened?”
“To make a long story short, I had her for one of my classes. Within a few weeks, she was inviting me to her office to discuss my work. That eventually led to discussing it over a coffee, then a drink…I’m sure you can guess the rest. I thought she was genuinely interested in me.”
“But she wasn’t?”
“Maybe she was in the beginning, but she was never interested in having a full-fledged relationship. She saw me as a fling.” The quaver in Emily’s soft voice made Casey want to hug her. “I should have seen it. I did see it. She never stayed over, she dictated when we met…I rationalized it away, ignored my friends’ warnings, thought I knew best. Can you believe I moved for her?” Emily snorted. “I told myself it would be more convenient for me. Stupid. Anyway, toward the end of the spring semester, she stopped taking my calls. When I dropped by her office, she was always busy. I finally cornered her after a class, and she told me it was over. No emotion, no sorrow, nothing. She’d already moved on.”
“You didn’t see it coming.”
“Nope. Well, deep down I knew.”
“And this happened…”
“A couple of years ago. When all was said and done, we were together,” her voice dropped, “if you can call it that, a little over six months.”
And the experience still smarted two years later. A knot formed in Casey’s stomach. She waited until they’d crossed a street, then voiced the question on her mind. “Are you still in love with her?”
“God, no! I’m mad at myself. I hate that I let myself be used like that.”
“We all lose our minds when we’re head over heels. Give yourself a break.”
“You might want to save your sympathy. You haven’t heard the worst part yet.”
Casey turned to her. “What?”
“I found out that she’s in a long-term relationship and takes a new pet on the side every year.”
“How did you find out?” Casey asked as she digested the information.
“From a former pet, believe it or not. We should form a club. We could probably fill a room.”
“She told you to rub it in.”
“No. She told me because she saw how miserable I was. I think she was trying to tell me I wasn’t the only one. At first I wondered why the hell she’d waited until after it was over to tell me, but now I understand. I wouldn’t call up Sandra’s current pet and say, ‘Hey, did you know she’s with someone.’ It’s not my business, and everyone shoots the messenger,” Emily said, frowning.
“You didn’t know about her partner, though.”
“Of course I didn’t know! I wouldn’t want someone having an affair with my partner, so I certainly wouldn’t do it to anyone else. When I found out, I felt terrible—and stupid. I’d dreamed about us growing old together, and all along, she was going home to someone else.” Her anguished eyes met Casey’s. “How could she do that? How could she lead someone on like that, knowing it’s all a lie?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m glad you don’t know.”
“Not everyone is like that.”
“I know.” Emily grimaced. “Now I’m a little gun shy about relationships. I always wonder now—not that there’s been anyone since then. Not beyond a single date, anyway.” She looked down at their intertwined fingers. “I hope I haven’t blown th
ings by telling you that I was the other woman.”
If Casey didn’t want to see anyone who’d made a mistake, her list of potential girlfriends would be empty. In this case… “You didn’t know you were the other woman. As far as worrying that this relationship will go the same way…” Yeah, this relationship, damn it. “I wouldn’t. Even if I was like her, if this relationship goes the same way for me as it usually does, you’ll dump me in around two or three dates anyway, so I wouldn’t worry.” She flushed when Emily laughed. Cripes, had she actually said that? Normally she wouldn’t be so candid. She’d be doing her best to come across as suave and sophisticated—and failing badly. “I’ve made some bad choices myself. This time feels different.”
“It does,” Emily said softly.
Casey resisted the urge to pull Emily closer and kiss her. She’d let Emily set the pace, rather than rush it. Unlike her other relationships, the urgency to move everything to the next level wasn’t there, not because she didn’t desire it, but because she somehow knew it would happen at exactly the right moment. Yep, something was different about this one, which both excited and scared the crap out of her.
“About this meeting with that woman’s boss…” Emily said, bringing Casey back to their conversation. “Be careful.”
“I won’t be alone. Steve will be listening.”
“Still. That guy put a woman into a coma. If he figures out you’re trying to bust him, what will he do to you? Are you sure you should do it?”
“I want to do it. It’ll close my case. That’s important to me.”
Emily’s brow furrowed. “What about that detective you told me about? Maybe you should tell her.”
Walker would only push Casey aside and steal all the glory. Casey reluctantly let go of Emily’s hand and pulled out her phone and notebook. “I’m adding her to my contacts,” she said, making a great show of doing so as Emily watched. “Now she’s literally two button presses away, okay? If I sense trouble, I’ll call her. I promise.” She watched Emily’s internal battle flit across her face.
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